Scarlet
by PropertyOfNegan77
Summary: Rating is for later chapters and language. I do not own AMC or the Walking Dead!
1. Chapter 1

He sat silently in his room. A thimble of bourbon in his right hand, his left resting on the arm of the leather sofa. The curtains were drawn; the lights were off. A thin ray of moonlight had wormed its way between the line of the curtains and glinted off of the nearly empty bottle of bourbon. This soft ray was the only light that infiltrated the room.

The silence of the room would have been un-nerving to many men, but not to Negan. Oh, he loved to hear himself talk, but he relished in the solitude of his room. No one was allowed in this room beside him. His men were allowed in the room that led to this one, his office.

He might live in the Sanctuary, but this was his sanctuary. Outside of this room he had to put on his façade of a bold, swaggering, asshole. He fit the part well, there was little acting. He was loud and brash. Few people liked him; most sucked up to him in hopes of what he might give them. His room was the only place he could almost feel normal again. The only place he could be himself. His self-reflection session was cut short by the voice of Simon over his walkie talkie.

The voice was directed toward Dwight, it was over a small break in the fence. Dwight promptly responded his men would take care of it. Negan didn't have to deal with their shit for a while then. This was the first break he had had in a while, so he was going to soak up every second of it.

A little over an hour later, his eyes flew open and he temporarily forgot where he was. It all flooded back to him when he felt the smooth leather under his denim clad ass. He squinted down at his wrist watch. Half past nine. The kitchen would be closed but they could heat something the fuck back up for their fearless leader.

With this, he pushed himself out of the couch. He slipped his black, leather jacket back on and slung Lucille over his shoulder. He instinctively walked to the door of his dark crypt. He winced when he opened the door. The light from his office hit him like a freight train. Once out of his office, he inserted his key into the lock and turned. The audible click signified his personal chambers were safe from any intruders.

He made quick work of the stairs. His lengthy strides carried him easily to the kitchen. The sound of pots clinking behind the doors reminded him of just how hungry he was. He heard the sound of women laughing and water sloshing. He cleared his throat and all the noise stopped. When he opened the door, all the ladies stood at his attention. The kitchen ladies were the only group beside his Saviors who didn't bow to him. Without another word, two of them began to gather a large heap of food for him.

He soon was exiting with his late diner. Once the door was closed, he heard them resume their earlier noises. When he had first established the Sanctuary, this type of behavior would have bothered him, but not at this point. He didn't give two shits about what anyone thought of him. As he walked past the door to the outside world, he noticed a dim light on the perimeter. It was on the outside. He dimly wondered if any of those worthless sons of bitches out there had gone to check on it.

He was about to throw the double doors open to the outside when Simon's voice flooded his walkie talkie.

"Negan! I think we have something you might like to see." A grin slowly spread across his face. Leave it to Simon to get shit done. That's why he was his right-hand man.

"Fan-fucking-tastic!" was the only verbal response. This time, he did swing the doors open. He spotted the vague form of a human crouched down on the ground in front of Dwight. The small form shivered. The realization hit him about how chilly it was in the night air. He steadily approached the group.

The men parted for Negan to pass by them. A rather large Cheshire cat grin played across his lips. A small woman peered back up into his face. He expected to see fear, but there was none. She stared defiantly back at him.

"What's your name darlin'?" He boomed, pearly whites flashing.

No response.

He inched a step forward, crowding her even more. A muffled sound came from the woman.

"Speak the fuck up hon. I couldn't hear a word you said."

"Scarlet… My name is Scarlet," she spoke softly up to him. Her voice was barley over a whisper. Usually, he wouldn't have accepted this type of response. However, she seemed mild mannered and from her battered appearance she had fought his men hard to save her freedom. He'd let this minor disrespect go… for now.


	2. Chapter 2

Nearly a month had passed since his men had captured the lone woman outside the gates. Dr. Carson had found out she had been a med student at Vanderbilt. A pretty damn good one too. All of Carson's assistants had very little schooling, so they weren't really that great at helping. Since this girl came along, Carson and fired all of the other ones and she became his one and only.

He had to admit, with Scarlet in the infirmary, things seemed to run a little smoother. More patients were being seen in a day and more patients were being diagnosed correctly. Negan wouldn't have given a shit if it wasn't for the fact that less supplies were being wasted on those that didn't need them.

For a while, he kept an eye on her. He had found her to be quiet. Not the type of girl who liked attention. She had a small group of the kitchen ladies that had taken a liking to her. He noticed that she didn't speak unless spoken to, but she was always polite and knew the right answer. He had left her alone, preferring to watch at a distance.

Her room was small but comfortable. She had silently rejoiced when she saw that she was the only person that would occupy this room. After being in the infirmary for a week or so, a larger room had been offered to her but she declined it. She hated change. It was stressful enough that she couldn't leave and scavenge, stuck behind those walls day in and out.

Before the end of the world, she had been near the top of her class at Vandi. She didn't party. All who knew her knew that she was quiet and shy but had a wonderful personality. She could make anyone smile; her quick wit was her favorite asset. Her friends had called her _Madam Librarian_ and constantly joked about how she was meant to sit before a fire on a leather couch reading a book. When the world went to hell in a handbasket, she wasn't sure she would make it.

But, she had. In fact, she had thrived. Her composed and calculating nature made her quite a fearsome enemy. Her friends from college couldn't do it. After they were gone, she refused to join another group. She had always enjoyed being alone, so she capitalized on it. Since losing them, she fared better. She went to and fro without being noticed, until her stupid mistake. That mistake had cost her the only thing she had: freedom.

All the people here were nice enough. She enjoyed having a purpose again in her field. The only thing that bothered her was the feeling she was being watched. Originally, she hadn't been sure by whom. Now, she knew. She had saw the glances Negan had casually cast her way. He was always around, but she never caught his eye.

She faintly wondered why he paid her even a sideways glance. She had never considered herself to be beautiful. She usually wore her shoulder length dishwater blonde hair in either a pony tail or a messy bun. She despised braids. The best description of her would be the girl next door. Pretty enough to catch some guy's eye but not attractive enough to draw excessive attention. The one thing that drew her the most attention was her piercing pale blue eyes. They seemed to stare right past the surface into the soul. She'd only spoken with him that first night so she couldn't fathom what he might be thinking. Since he didn't bother, she pushed his image from her mind.


End file.
